calm him, and he opened the window; if this freshness did not calm
him, at least it would make him sleep.

Obliged to improvise a bed in her mother's room, Phillis placed it
against the partition that separated her from her husband, but without
preconcerted intention, simply by accident, because it was the only
place where she could put the bed. A little after midnight an unusual
noise awoke her; she sat up to listen and to recover herself. It seemed
as if this noise came from her husband's room. Alarmed, she placed
her ear against the partition. She was not deceived; they were stifled
groans, moans that were repeated at short intervals.

Carefully yet quickly she left her bed, and as the dawn was already
shining in the windows, she was able to leave the room without making
any noise. Reaching the door of her husband's room she listened; she was
not deceived; they were indeed groans, but louder and sadder than those
she had so often heard during the night. She tried the door, but it was
evidently locked on the inside. What was the matter with him? She must
know, must go to him, and give him relief. She thought of knocking, of
shaking the door; but as he did not reply when she tried to open it, it
was because he did not hear or did not wish to hear. Then she thought
of the terrace; from there she could see what happened, and if it were
necessary she would break a pane to enter.

She found the window open and saw her husband on the bed, sleeping,
his head turned toward her; she stopped and asked herself if she should
cross the threshold and wake him.

At this moment, with closed lips, he pronounced several words
more distinctly than those that had so many times escaped him:
"Phillis--forgive."

He dreamed of her. Poor, dear Victor! for what did he wish her to pardon
him? Doubtless for having threatened to hypnotize her:

Overcome by this proof of love she put her head through the opening of
the window to give him a look before returning to her mother, but
on seeing his face in the full white light of the morning, she was
frightened; it expressed the most violent sorrow, the features convulsed
with anguish and horror at the same time. Surely he was ill. She must
wake him. Just as she took a step toward him he began to speak: "Your
brother--or me?"

She stopped as if thunderstruck, then instinctively she drew back and
clung to the window in the vestibule to keep herself from falling,
repeating those two words that s